


Little Book Of Monsters

by theescapist99



Series: A Nice Place To Visit [1]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 13:02:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9821672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theescapist99/pseuds/theescapist99
Summary: After a long day at work, Percival is horrified to hear the sounds of a shrieking Credence and a growling...spider? Book? Monster? What the hell is that thing?And more importantly, what was it doing in his house?





	

**Author's Note:**

> I told imagaypotatoe on tumblr I would flesh this out as a fic, and I did! Its more of a ficlet but eh.
> 
> Based on their post here: https://phantasmiicparade.tumblr.com/post/156390370022/graves-leaning-back-upon-the-couch-in-boxers
> 
> Hope I did it some justice!

Percival sighed as he stretched on his prized, black leather couch. On his side table, a glass of scotch was filled and ripe for drinking. A copy of _Death In Venice And Other Tales_ sat unopened on his lap, inviting him to forget all about the stressful day he had had at work. He put on his pair of reading glasses, his hand already reaching for the glass, when he suddenly heard a blood curdling shriek.

Percival jolted to his feet, his hand reflexively grabbing his wand.

Before he could get to the source of the scream, Credence came dashing into the living room on his own.

“Mister Graves!” he cried out, already on the verge of tears. The boy leapt onto the couch beside him, landing in somewhat of a fetal position.

Percival just stared at him in confusion, still not understanding what had him in such a panic. Credence groaned miserably before he began to (or at least tried to) explain. .” I-I was jus-just collect-collecting a p-parcel….a-and…a-a-an'…”

“Credence, what…” Percival tried to question – he knew he had to get Credence to calm down if he was to properly react.

Credence made a sort of mewling noise, and he pointed at the archway from which he had come sprinting. Percival did not need to ask for anymore explanation – a small creature suddenly came sort of wobbling in. At first it looked like it may have been an overgrown spider – at least the eyes were spider like, and the fur and its colors looked similar to that of a tarantula. But the likeness ended there. Unlike a spider, it had no legs. It didn’t even have arms. It actually looked more like a book, with it’s mouth where the pages might be.

A hideous set of fangs and gums were bared at them from the center of what looked like the books fore edge, opening and closing as though trying to bite at whatever it might find, emitting heinous screeches and growls as it did.

Percival gaped.

“What… is…. _that_?” Percival muttered more to himself. He had never seen anything like it before.

Credence was nearly hyperventilating, and Percival knew he had to do something quick. He mentally kicked himself for his hesitation in his confusion. But seriously, what the hell was that thing? One thing about living in the magical world – it was never a good idea to react brashly to _anything_ you were unfamiliar with.

“M-Mr. Graves.…” Credence was whimpering piteously.

The book/creature thing was getting closer, it’s sights appeared to be focused on Credence. It was going directly towards him. Percival kicked it off its track, and it landed a small distance away, but it seemed angrier than ever. Its screeching grew even louder, and Percival grimaced at the piercing noise. It just seemed to frighten Credence further, if that was possible, and suddenly the boy had his arms wrapped awkwardly but firmly around Percival’s torso, like he was holding on for dear life. Percival looked down at him, trying to ignore the way his heart jumped at the sudden contact. Credence had barely ever shaken his hand before.

He just couldn’t help but wish it had been under happier circumstances.

Credence, on the other hand, was still too lost in his own paralyzing panic to give this moment nearly the same amount of thought.

“Wh-Why would Mr. Scamander s-send this…” Credence bawled out and Percival’s fists actually curled.

“ _Scamander_!” he huffed. Of course, it all made sense now. Why wouldn’t Newt Scamander be the source of his daily misery and woes? _Of course_ it was Scamader’s fault — when the hell was it _not_ Scamader’s fault? If he he hadn’t been the one to find and help Credence after the Grindlewald incident, Percival honestly would have likely found an excuse to lock him up.

But alas, he owed the man whether he liked it or not.

The monster book had, at some point, apparently gotten a hold of his book, because when Percival looked down at it next, it was chewing on the desecrated remains of a perfectly good and unread novel.

Percival took another deep, steadying sigh.

“God dammit.” He breathed out slowly, “Credence, it’s alright…I’ll take care of it.”

Percival aimed his wand at the thing, thinking of using a simple stunning spell. Or he could just blast the thing to oblivion, Scamander be damned. But as he was about to utter a curse, he felt a squeeze around his waste. He had forgotten that Credence was still holding on to him, and the squeeze, though not very hard, seemed to suck the breath out of him.

“Don’t hurt it Mr. Graves…please…”, Credence whimpered.

Percival frowned. Of course, Credence – as frightened and alarmed as he was – was still _actually_ concerned about the fate of this… book thing. It was the kind of sentiment that typically made Percival roll his eyes, but for once… for once, Percival couldn’t help but find it rather _endearing_.

Shaking his head, he steadied his wand hand again and muttered “Petrificus Totalus.”

The monster, spider, book or whatever the hell it was froze on the spot.

Percival lowered his wand, thinking that he was going to need a lot more scotch, when he noticed something peculiar:

Credence wasn’t letting go.

He looked down at Credence, and their eyes met. Credence was staring up at him, wide eyed – as if he was the frighting, strange creature now.

“What?” Percival raised an eyebrow at him.

“You’re blushing…” Credence stated breathlessly, as if in awe. Percival could have made the same observation about him – a pink tinge colored Credence’s cheekbones. But he kept that to himself. He stepped away from Credence, trying to not think too much about the nakedness his waist suddenly felt without Credence’s arms snugly around them.

Bending down to pick up the paralyzed creature (very carefully, of course) his back to Credence, Percival stated plainly, “I’m too old to blush.”

He walked away, the book creature tucked under his arm.

“Now if you’ll excuse me,” Percival stated as he walked, “I have a very angry letter to write to Newt Scamander.”


End file.
